Disclaimer
Teen Titans is a registered trademark of DC Comics and Cartoon Network Inc. All trademarked characters, locations, themes and ideas are used without permission in a work of fan-created fiction. The following has been done without profit for purely entertainment purposes. All original concepts, characters, themes and ideas within are the copyrighted property of the author, and are not to be reproduced without his prior consent. Additional information used in creating Teen Titans: Adaptation is courtesy of Titans Tower Online.
California is a beautiful state, provided that one looks at it from the right angle. It has majestic mountains, stately old forests, lush valleys, rolling hills, and thousands of picturesque spots that practically do the tourism board's job for it. Consequently, the chairman of California's tourism board possesses both a fantastic golf game and little worry for the security of his job.
But like any state, California has its less desirable locales: there existed one such place, a patch of desolate land that managed to be useless to both agriculture and aesthetics at the same time. It was a near-desert tract of land that rivaled Death Valley in everything but heat, and possessed all the appeal of a North or South Dakota, minus Mount Rushmore. The land was a minor disfigurement on an otherwise lovely landscape, almost like a beauty mark.
This map-marring tract lay twenty miles east of the edge of Jump City. The locals had dubbed it "The Doldrums." They had then made it a landfill for the worst moment in the history of their city.
A tremendous pit had been cut into the earth in the middle of the Doldrums. It measured fifty yards on any side, and was lined with a two-foot layer of concrete that glistened with sealant. The bottom of the pit was made uneven by a carpet of mechanical parts, each of which resembled a piece of a man. Clawed arms reached up from the bottom as if frozen in an attempt of escape. Dead, blank eyes stared up from the bottom, watching the work crews' efforts to bury them.
The ghoulish collection of parts at the bottom made Steve shiver. He tugged his hard hat down and stepped away from the edge of the pit. Like his crew, he had been working for months to dispose of Slade's robots safely. And like his crew, he was all to ready for the final phase of their disposal.
Up on the surface, the view wasn't much better. Between the heaps of dirt they had unearthed sat equivalent heaps of robot parts that waited for their turn in the pit. The field around them was dotted with both kinds of piles. Steve could not wait until all of them wound up buried and forgotten.
He swung his arm high, signaling a bulldozer that trundled toward the pit. His number two man on the job site sat at its controls, and waved back at Steve's shout of, "Hey, Clint!"
"Hey, Steve!" Clint called back. He patted the steering wheel of his rig, and shouted, "The old Moose here is rarin' to go. What say we put these junk piles to bed and tuck 'em in real tight?"
Steve glanced back at the pit. He stifled his shiver so Clint wouldn't see. "Yeah. But let's throw one more pile of bots down there for the first layer. We've got a few feet of wiggle room, and I'd rather have more bots at the bottom and more dirt up top than the other way around."
Teasingly, Clint shouted, "Tinker toys giving you the willies, Boss?"
"Real funny. Just roll your rig, Mister Comedian, before I make you quit your day job," Steve snapped, and waved him on.
Tapping his helmet, Clint swung the bulldozer's path to a nearby pile of robotics. Steve watched the bulldozer push into the pile. With no one watching, he shivered openly at the wave of faces and limbs that spilled around the edge of the dozer's blade. Watching the bodies being pushed into a hole, even if they were mechanical, made his stomach churn.
And yet, there was something cathartic about taking a bad memory and shoving it underground. With the completion of the pit project, the city could at last put the past behind it. And the lucrative contract Steve's company had obtained to design, dig, and cap the pit didn't hurt either. As he watched Clint doze the pile toward the pit, he breathed a sigh in relief for the end of a long, terrible nightmare.
Steve choked on his sigh at the sight of red light in the pile being dozed. At first, it was a single, brilliant point that shone between the rolling parts. Then more points came into being, and then more still. The whole pile at the front of the bulldozer glowed with red pinpricks. Steve didn't realize until he watched a head surface from the pile that the light came from the robots' eyes.
"Clint!" he screamed, waving his arms madly. "Clint, cut your engine! Something's up!"
The shout turned Clint's head. "What?" he shouted back, deafened by the bulldozer's motor.
When he turned away, he missed the sight of hands grasping the top edge of the dozer's blade. Three robots climbed over the front of the bulldozer to stand on its engine. Two of them each lacked an arm, while the third balanced on a single leg. All three of them possessed glimmering eyes.
Clint turned back to the windshield. He screamed as the robots' lights flared. Beams streaked from their eyes and burned through the windshield. Flesh and bone boiled away beneath the terrible light. Clint's scream became a rattle as the beams tore his chest to blackened shreds. The bulldozer sputtered to a stop when its driver slumped over the wheel. Neither the dozer nor its driver would ever move again.
The horrific scene deadened Steve. He could only stare in abject horror as he watched more robots rise from the pile. Some were just torsos that dragged mangled stubs behind them. Others were skeletons that lacked their armored guises of men. None of them seemed slowed by their damage.
Steve turned to run. To where, he did not know. The crews' cars were parked well away from the site for safety reasons, and the robots could cut him down with just a look. Still, he had to try. He turned, and then froze.
More of the piles writhed with reactivating robots. All of the piles. All around him, the black and red drones of Slade's army shambled out of their own dismembered parts. He watched the drones gathering their parts, examining them for usability. Those without arms kicked replacement ones toward the drones that could help them. Those without legs dragged themselves toward new hips.
The robots' fingers lit with micro-welding heat that soldered wires into empty sockets. They were fixing themselves. They were reactivated, and they were recuperating to fighting form within minutes.
Steve staggered back from the sight. His heavy steps took him to the edge of the pit, where his heel pressed down on open air. He wheeled his arms to stay upright. He looked down into the pit, and screamed again.
The walls of the pit were black with robots. They crawled like spiders up the rough sides. They moved with inhuman speed and precision. Their dead eyes burned up at him.
Steve's last thoughts, despite his fear, were of others. He thought to warn someone, anyone, of these reactivated horrors. His hand was in his pocket to grasp his cell phone when red light consumed him.
What remained of Steve tumbled into the pit without a sound, trailing putrid smoke behind it. The robots ignored him and set their processors toward the task of salvage and repair. Their optics were firmly locked on their goal, a distant metropolis sitting on the open horizon.
Teen Titans
Adaptation
By Cyberwraith9
Legacy: Recurring Nightmare
"Concentrate," Doctor Hayden said softly. His voice echoed as if carrying over a great distance. "Concentrate on the sound of my voice. Let it guide you deeper into yourself. Deeper into the places you can't go."
Tek had little choice but to listen. Hayden's voice was the only thing she could hear. The rest of her world swirled around her in a kaleidoscope of color and white noise, none of it distinct, all of it disorienting. She tried to ignore the stomach-churning surreality, and waited for something tangible on which to focus.
Her breathing slowed. The kaleidoscope around her slowed down, and eventually stopped. "Good," Hayden said. "Keep concentrating. Where are you now?"
A smile creased her cheeks as she recognized her surroundings. "I'm in Titans Tower. It looks like it did before the explosion." She stood at the upper level, just outside of Ops. To her left, the old picture of the founding five Titans smiled back at her. "I'm right at Ops' door," she told the disembodied voice.
"Concentrate on the door," he told her. "Walk up to it. Is it open?"
She approached the double doors. They did not trigger in her presence. A faint breeze escaped through the seam down the middle. "They're not opening. I think they're broken, or locked," she said.
"They aren't locked, Tek. Open the doors. Push them if you have to."
Tek tugged at the center seam. It bit her fingers with cold. "I don't know if I can," she said. "I'm not sure if I'm strong enough to move them. Last time I was here—"
"You are strong enough. Force the doors open. You can do this," Hayden said.
Grasping the seam, Tek pulled on one leaf of the doors with her whole body. She felt her arms strain, and tried not to dwell on the metaphysical implications of a pulled muscle in this place. Summoning all her might, she forced the leaf halfway into its socket, and then slipped through before it could snap back into place.
The murky world she stumbled into was cold and damp. Smooth pavement caught her stumbling steps. Brick walls rose up on either side of her, stretching into infinity above. A sliver of city lights waited in the distance beyond the edge of the walls.
"Where are you now, Tek?"
"In an alley," she said, and stepped forward slowly. "It's night. It smells like it just rained. Like it might rain again. Everything's wet, and…"
She trailed off. There was another door in one of the brick walls. This door was made from thick, riveted metal that had turned green in the elements. Rust stained the surface around its knob. When she stepped toward it, a chill swallowed her spine from the bottom up.
"What is it? What's in the alley?"
The chill worsened with another step. "It's another door. It looks…big."
"Go to it, Tek."
She took another step. Ice water spread from her spine to consume the rest of her body, making her tremble. Within reach of the door, she stopped, and hugged her chest to quell herself. "I don't like this. It feels wrong," she whimpered.
Hayden's voice echoed in the alley, "Tek, you need to open that door."
"I…I…" She tried to touch the knob. The air prickled with cold, turning her moan into a puff of steam. She yanked her hand back and sobbed, "I can't."
"Tek, this is important. Concentrate. You can do this."
The temperature plummeted. Tek's skin cracked in the intense cold. Her eyes burned and watered. Her teeth ached with each panicking breath. "I can't. I have to get out of here!"
"Tek, no."
Her fingernails tore against brick as she clawed the wall at her back. The door before her grew, stretching into enormity. The alley narrowed, pushing her inexorably toward the door. Her feet scraped the pavement as the wall shoved her forward. "Get me out!" she shrieked. "Get me out! I want out!"
"Okay. Okay! I'm going to count to three, and you're going to be back in my office, completely safe."
Tek twisted her face back into the wall, unable to bear the sight of the door any longer. The cold reached for her, brushing her chin with fingers of black ice. "No!" she screamed.
"One. Two. Three."
The alley vanished. Tek sat up with a gasp and clutched the sides of the fainting couch on which she lay. Cold sweat drenched her shirt and jeans, making them cling to her skin. The wall before her was made of bland plaster, not brick, and it held framed certificates and photos. No doors. She laid back in relief and tried to soothe the jackhammer in her chest.
Doctor Hayden sat next to her. He was a bland slip of a man with mousy brown hair that grayed and receded. Round spectacles sat on his nose. A pensive breath grew in his chest as he handed Tek a handkerchief.
While she gratefully dabbed her glistening face, he said, "I think we've made some excellent progress with this session."
Tek peeled back the hair plastered to her forehead to reveal a frown. "You always say that," she groused. "But every time you put me under, I just wind up walking through doors until I find one that I can't open."
"Ah, but it's the nature of those doors that bear significance," he countered pleasantly. "With each new door you've discovered, you were able to describe its location as a place of your own personal recollection. This door in the alley is somewhere you've never been, yes?"
She masked her disquiet behind a shrug. "It was an alley. So?"
Hayden smiled. "'Alleys' hold a special significance for you, Tek. Your first memory was in an alley. Was it this one?"
This time Tek could not suppress her shiver. Her first moment in this world had been one of terror beneath the gun of a man named Irons. She had blacked out, and then awoken to her second moment covered in his blood. She still felt panic whenever she saw anyone in a black suit and matching tie. Doctor Hayden knew better now, and wore a colorful cardigan sweater to each of their sessions.
"I don't think so," Tek drawled.
The answer broadened his smile. "Marvelous! I do believe we've hit upon one of your repressed memories. Your reluctance to open the door could mean that it represents a breakthrough to your amnesia."
Her eyes trailed across the wall in miserable self-reflection. She paused upon the golden mask hung next to his diplomas. The mask's eternal smile always made her feel worse for not feeling better, as though she should be smiling too. "I thought it means I'm a lame super hero who can't open a stupid door," she mumbled.
Hayden sobered thoughtfully and leaned back in his chair as Tek sat up. "Let's leave the hypnosis behind for today. Tell me, how are things going at home?"
"Fine, I guess," she said with another shrug.
He arched an eyebrow. "Tek," he said reproachfully, "You know I detest the word 'fine.' And you know these sessions won't help if you aren't honest with me and with yourself."
"But things really are going fine," insisted Tek. "Cyborg has the new Compound running smooth, and he's really pulled everybody together. Beast Boy's got a better handle on whatever it is his body is doing now. Even Raven's doing better! She's been seeing a lot of this one guy. I haven't met him yet, but I think they might be—"
Hayden lifted his hand to interrupt her. He sighed, and removed his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose. "Tek, I'm interested in how things are going for 'you.' How are you coping with all of these changes in your life?"
Tek puffed in exasperation. "That's the problem," she said. "I don't feel like I even have a life. I feel like I'm just waiting around to wake up one day and remember who I am. Like I'll just open my eyes, and bing! There I am! Every time I eat something I've never had before, I wonder if I should already like it or hate it. I see kids walking with their parents, and I wonder if mine are out there. Do they miss me? Do I miss them? Am I ever going to get anything from my old life back? And what if I don't even want it back? What if I'm better off now, except I'll never know for sure unless I remember?"
He tapped his glasses into his palm and let her panting confession hang in silence. "Tek, I don't want you to pin too much hope on these memories we're trying to recover. Regardless of our memories, everyone is a constantly evolving entity. No one wakes up and knows herself."
"No 'bing?'" she mewled.
He smiled and shook his head. "No 'bing,' I'm afraid. It would certainly make life easier, even if it did put me out of a job."
"Great," she huffed, pouting. "So I'm never going to be okay."
"I think the best way for you to be 'okay' is for you to start living the life you have now," he said. "Stop waiting to be the girl you were, and start being the girl you are. You have so much to offer, but you hide it in so many ways."
She frowned. "How?"
"Your fixation on how others react to you. Your emphasis on others' needs above your own. Even your clothes. You may be the only hero in history to wear so many other heroes' standards instead of your own."
Tek looked down at her black T-shirt. A Green Lantern symbol curved around her chest. She crossed her arms, embarrassed, and said, "I don't always—"
"Every time I've seen you," he insisted. "You wear these shirts because you feel as though you need to hide behind a symbol of someone you consider to be a 'real' hero. And you don't." He donned his glasses and gave his squirming patient a firm look. "I want you to go out today and buy something exciting to wear. Something colorful and vibrant. No T-shirts, no symbols. It has to be something original, and something you're absolutely terrified of wearing. And I definitely want you to start asserting your needs, and not necessarily the needs of those around you. Do you think you can do that, Tek?"
She gathered her answer in a deep breath, and released it with a sigh. "I think so."
He nodded and smiled, and stole a glance at his watch. "Good, because we're out of time for this week. The burden of your mental health is back in your hands. Take care of it, eh?"
Tek smiled wanly at his habitual joke as she stood to leave. "Thank you, Doctor."
Hayden rose to show her out of the office. "Don't go overboard. Just take some small steps, okay?"
Small steps. She could do that. After all, how hard could it be to reinvent an entire personality and undo one's self-manufactured unhappiness?
She reached the door, and hesitated, her hand hovering at the knob. Swallowing hard, Tek closed her eyes. Her small steps would only be as hard as her subconscious made them, which clearly meant that they would be very hard indeed.
"Up! Up-up-up!" Gizmo screamed, jerking his controller as he slammed its knob to either side. "No, no, no, no-no-no-no…yes! Yes, yes, y—no! You stupid, stupid stick! Go where I tell you! Oh, wait…waaaaaiiit… YES!"
Clad in just his boxer shorts, Gizmo leapt onto the couch and bounced in victory, his boxy controller held high over his bald head. Shimmer sat next to him, barefoot and sullen in defeat. She tossed her controller to the floor and snarled, "Balls! This thing cheats!"
Gizmo dropped onto the cushion next to her. A moony grin consumed his face. "You didn't think it cheated when I lost my jumpsuit. Now cough it up, loser!" His glassy lenses dropped to the pleather pants that hugged her hips.
She sneered at him, and reached instead to loosen one of the leather straps around her chest. The strap she undid was not nipple-critical, but it left unbound more cleavage than she wanted Gizmo leering at. She tossed the strap at him, which he caught and whirled over his head with a wolfish howl.
Standing behind the couch, Jinx rolled her eyes at the undressing duo. "I wouldn't get too cocky, Mik. I got next, and if I win, everybody gets to see your screwdriver. Bad time to wear a onesie, huh?"
"Frag off, magi-slut. No one beats the champion. I just lost 'cause I wanted you ladies to see all this. Consider it a gift," he said, and flexed his impish arms. The posturing earned him snorts and giggles from both girls.
Mammoth reclined shirtlessly in an easy chair next to the couch. A bucket of chicken wings sat empty under his arm. He belched and picked his teeth with a bone, and said, "Get 'er, Mik. I wanna see someone lose who isn't my kid sister." Shimmer wagged her tongue at him, to which he replied in kind.
Jinx circled the couch to take up Shimmer's controller when the doors to Ops split to reveal an irate Ravager. He marched in with a trio of Billy Numerous duplicates behind him. All four of them carried small satchels at their sides. Ravager dropped his satchel upon sight of the foursome gathered around Ops' interactive window monitor.
"What the hell is this?" he snapped.
The enormous monitor was black, with white posts at either end. A large white square lazily bounced between the posts, waiting for input from the controllers.
With a helpless shrug, Jinx said, "Uh, Strip Pong?"
The glare in Ravager's mask narrowed. He said testily, "Well, that explains what happened to your pants."
Jinx looked down past the lavender corset binding her chest. A pair of vibrant pink panties blared against the ashen pallor of her skin. She flushed with mild embarrassment as she said, "What? It's just a little harmless fun. You should try loosening up and having some. Why don't you guys jump in?"
The three Billy duplicates dove into one another and came out as a single Billy. Their satchels dropped behind him, bursting open with a spray of jewels every shape and color imaginable. In a flash of bright red, he jumped over the couch and unseated Gizmo with a bounce on the cushions. "I got next!" he cried, catching Gizmo's tossed controller.
Ravager bashed Billy on the head with his own satchel. "No, no, no!" he bellowed. The reverberation left his voice as he pulled the helmet from his head to unveil a look of disgust aimed at the lot of them. "This is just pathetic. Tossing your clothes about and playing video games when there's work to be done! Why don't we all just goof around for the rest of the day, hmm?"
"Now he's getting' it," Mammoth chuckled.
"I think I'm the only one who gets it!" Ravager barked. "Do you think this is a clubhouse? Numerous and I were out this morning robbing jewelry stores for the capital we need to keep this Tower of ours maintained. I shouldn't have to remind you people to commit crimes! If we're ever going to defeat the Teen Titans, we need to keep them confounded and off-balance by—"
Gizmo stood on the couch and tossed Shimmer's strap at Ravager. The leather bounced off Ravager's chest plate, enraging him to the point where he could no longer speak. "Give it a rest, 'Crabager.' We've all been busting our asses to get the Titans. We completely frakked the city's infrastructure just last week! We deserve a little break. Besides, I got this crap heap up and running already, didn't I?"
Mammoth grunted as he peered into the bottom of his wing bucket. Chicken bones spilled into his lap. "Still looks like crap on the outside," he grumbled.
"It's supposed to!" exploded Ravager. "How could you possibly not understand that when I keep explaining it to you? If the Titans looked out one day and saw their old base looking like new, they'd get a little suspicious, don't you think? Do you want them to come knocking and find out we remade the place into the Tyrants Tower?"
Pale hands pressed Ravager back from an unimpressed Mammoth. "Easy," said Jinx. "Easy, okay? Now look, Grant—"
"Ravager," he growled.
"'Grant,'" she retorted, frowning briefly. "Listen to me. We all hate the Titans. We're all working hard to bring them down. And I promise you, I'm going to be the first one dancing on their charred bones. But you've got to look at the big picture here. If we don't take some time to unwind and have some fun, what's the point of keeping the city in a constant state of near-panic?"
Her hands slid up his chest plate to caress his neck. Her teasing fingers worked some of the venom out of his scowl. Still, he muttered, "We're wasting precious time. We should be training. Or plotting."
"Think of it like teambuilding," said Jinx. "Just last month, Gizmo couldn't stand Billy. Now they're sitting next to each other without killing each other, and it's all thanks to Strip Pong!"
Realization struck Gizmo and Billy, and they began slapping one another's hands in a weak show of mutual animosity. Ravager, in the meantime, succumbed to the arms encircling his neck and the coy lilac gaze that leaned into his frown. His unintelligible grumble waned.
"Baby Face," she lilted, tickling the back of his neck. "I'm in my paaan-ties. And I suck at Pong."
Mammoth and Shimmer gagged theatrically as Jinx transformed Ravager's grim visage with a kiss. He surrendered grinningly, and said, "I'm not going to win this argument, am I?"
Leaning and leering, Billy quipped, "Not against legs like those, hombre."
Ravager worked at the clasps on his armor when the entire room pulsed with red light. A klaxon filled Ops, banishing their video game from the monitor in favor of a map of the metro area.
"It's the Teen TyrrAlarm!" Gizmo exclaimed. "Something major's going down in the city!"
One Billy split into five duplicates, one each for the red dots flashing on the screen's map. Each Billy pointed to a different dot. Strung together, the dots formed a curved line to the east of the city. "Not in," one Billy said, while another finished, "It's out in the middle of nowhere."
"Moving fast, too," Shimmer noted. "But what's so big out there that it's gonna register on our radar?"
Ravager manipulated their mainframe via his gauntlet computer. He silenced the klaxon and normalized the lights. Then he summoned to the monitor a report of the emergency.
His eyes narrowed with rage.
"Gizmo," he said, "prepare your new toy in the Bay. All of you, get dressed. We mobilize immediately."
He ducked his head into his helmet, locking it with a twist. As he stalked away, Jinx stared at the report in confusion. She recognized the threat, but not its meaning to Ravager. "Wait. This has nothing to do with us. What are we 'mobilizing' for?"
Halfway out the door, he stopped, and turned. The vast distance of Ops could not dilute the brute fury boiling from within his two-toned mask. He killed their questions with one word, a word that reverberated with familial weight. Then he turned and left them to scramble for their clothes.
"Bright blessings of Blood upon thee, brother and sister. Go in peace, and know happiness in the embrace of the Church."
Raven pushed the pamphlet aside and continued down the sidewalk. A turn of her head spared the street-corner proselytizer her irritated look. "Ugh," she muttered. "All these red cloaks hovering around the city give me the creeps. And considering the source, that's saying something."
Dominic walked next to her, navigating Jump City's downtown with an obvious smile. "I'll admit, the shadowy robes are a bit much," he said. "But look on the bright side. The Church of Blood has been giving a lot of money and manpower to rebuilding homes, setting up shelters, and keeping the streets safe at night. Heck, they're the reason the city even has an SCU anymore, thanks to some hefty donations."
She cast an eyebrow high with surprise. "But what about all the recruiting they've been doing here? Taking in starving, homeless refugees and making them members of their church," she countered.
"I'm pretty sure every religion everywhere calls that 'spreading the faith,'" he noted.
"They're a cult," Raven said. The word left a rancid taste in her mouth.
"Nah. Too many people for that. The government had to recognize them as a religion after the last census. They even get the standard tax breaks for it."
Raven's other eyebrow shot up to join the first. "It sounds like they have one more convert," she said, slightly alarmed.
Dominic shrugged. "After the fiftieth or so red cloak shoved a pamphlet at me, I decided to do a little research." He began ticking his fingers off on one hand: "The Church of Blood donates almost universally to foundations that support medical research, including stem cells. Their doctrines emphasize family and unity, which is why they don't insist on their members cutting ties with non-members like some religions do. The Church is always among the first to have volunteers and relief at every natural disaster around the globe."
"A 'little' research?" she said skeptically.
He shrugged again. "If they are a cult, they're about as nice a cult as you could hope for."
They walked several steps more before Raven pointed out, "You never answered my question."
"Hmm?" Dominic seemed surprised. "Oh, no way. Magnanimous or not, those Bloodheads are creepy. Them and their goat-faced grand poobah. I like to keep my own faith."
Relief swelled in Raven's breast. She dipped her chin to mask a small smile. Then she felt Dominic's expectant stare, and asked, "What?"
"Well, we've answered the question of my beliefs. Isn't it only fair that we hear about yours?" he asked. His voice remained light, but there was an undeniable interest in his words.
Raven balked. She had not meant to open the loaded subject of her own personal beliefs. The thought of discussing it made her stomach squirm, and understandably so: few people had the same insight into theology as she possessed. As coolly as she could, she retorted, "I don't recall ever agreeing to be fair in this relationship."
His face brightened like Beast Boy's on Christmas morning. Only too late did Raven realize her verbal slip. "Ha! You said the 'R' word. Now it's official," Dominic said.
Deep violet flushed Raven's face. "It's just a word. My teakettle and teapot have a relationship too. One dumps boiling water into the other. Would you like that kind of relationship?"
"That depends entirely on who the kettle is," he teased. At her huff, he added, "And you are absolutely adorable when you're violently obstinate. But what's so awful about admitting that you like me?"
"You aren't as charmingly irresistible as you think you are," she told him.
"That would mean so much more if we weren't still holding hands."
Raven looked down and discovered with mild surprise that her hand was firmly wrapped in his. Their fingers intertwined, with palm sweat mingling freely. They had been walking hand in hand throughout the conversation, probably even from the coffee house where they had shared breakfast.
As they passed a storefront window, Raven caught sight of a young, ridiculously cute couple, their eyes laughably bright with the simple delight of touch, their hands clasped and swinging between their pleasant stroll. She thought she looked foolish.
And she didn't care.
Smirking, Raven said, "Maybe I just don't want you getting lost."
Dominic smirked back. "Oh, yes. Your place can be hard to find sometimes. Which enormous letter was it? It's not the 'Q' down on Third Street, is it? That can be a dodgy neighborhood. Lots of young vowels running around making trouble. Sometimes even 'Y.'"
All too quickly, Titans Compound loomed before them. Raven unconsciously slowed her pace. She said nothing when she noticed Dominic do the same. They savored the walk around the Compound to its lobby, neither of them wishing to break their peace for more banter.
Raven felt glad. She reveled in the sense of tranquility pouring into her through Dominic's hand. The empathic tumult of the city could not touch her when she touched him. It was like experiencing silence after a lifetime of deafening noise. The feeling was heady and warm, and heartbreaking in that she knew it would end when she let go of him.
She couldn't explain the feeling. She needed to explain it, if only to know how to reproduce it on her own. After the next time, she would ask him. Always after the next time. If only she didn't ever have to let go…
Dominic opened the lobby door for her. As he entered, he jumped in surprise at the sudden appearance of a slim blonde wearing a pink professional ensemble and a smile bright enough to blind him. "Good morning, and welcome to Titans Compound," she said. "How may I help you today?"
He patted his heart with his free hand while Raven followed him in, rolling her eyes. "Whoa," he said. "You shouldn't sneak up on people like that, Barbie."
"My name is Sarah. Would you like to learn more about the Teen Titans?"
He stepped back from her silent, eager, eerie smile. Leaning to Raven, he tapped his temple and murmured, "Is she…all there?"
Raven bit back several choice words she would save for Cyborg. "Computer, deactivate SARAH Sim," she commanded.
Sarah de-resolved in a spray of pink pixels that vanished into the air. Dominic passed his hand through the space where she had been, and said, "Cool. She's really cute. Think I could get her number? Or…file location?"
Raven elbowed him in the ribs. "I thought you were already in a relationship," she said.
"I thought I wasn't," Dominic said. "Does this mean we're going steady? There's a sock hop at the soda parlor on Friday, and it'd be whiz-bang keen if—"
She squeezed his hand, prompting him silent. "Don't push me," she said with a smile.
Hand in hand, they drew closer. Dominic brushed her hair back over her ear, tracing the curve of her cheek. She sighed at his fingers trailing down the hollow of her neck. She arched her back as he dipped his chin, pulling her to his chest. The smell of fresh coffee and scone spilled from his mouth and over hers.
Raven closed her eyes and felt the slightest brush against her lips. Electricity jolted through her whole body.
The lobby door swung in. Sarah reactivated, startling the two teens apart with her cheery presence. "Good morning, and welcome to Titans Compound. How may I help you today?" Sarah chirped at the door.
Tek eventually squeezed herself through the lobby door, and then dragged after her the small armada of shopping bags she carried. The door caught and released the bags, knocking her backwards onto the tile. "Rrgh," she groaned, and glared up at their bubbly receptionist. "Don't help or anything, Sarah."
"Yes, ma'am," Sarah said.
Dominic's hand slid out of Raven's. As she watched him bend to help Tek, she felt the weight of the world settle upon her empathic ear once more. Tek's embarrassment blared against a backdrop of the city's collective feelings. Shuddering, Raven drew her cloak around her. Her psychic walls sprang up on reflex, keeping everything simultaneously out and in.
"Here," Dominic said, bracing Tek up with a hand. "Are you okay?"
Tek rubbed the seat of her jeans with a wince. "Yeah," she said, and looked up at the stranger helping her. "I'm...a total babe…"
She stared, jaw-slacken, at the lanky, fair-skinned gentleman whose hand kept her upright. He wore a faded button-down and black slacks that balanced comfort and style in a way that Tek envied, especially after a whole morning of shopping. Shaggy red hair fell over eyes the color of old jade, which sparkled when he smiled.
Dominic looked her up and down. "You're a cutey," he agreed with a nod. "Tek, right? I'm Dominic. It's nice to finally meet you. Raven….well, actually hasn't said anything about you. Or anybody. But I see you on the news all the time. That armor of yours kicks ass!"
She brushed back her hair to hide her blush. "Thanks. I like yours too. Your clothes, I mean. You have clothes, not armor. I know the, um, difference…"
Her voice trailed off in humiliation, fueling his smile. He let her off the hook by turning back to Raven. "I should probably go. I have work soon. But we're still on for dinner tonight, right?"
"Sure," Raven said, looking away.
Dominic bent to kiss her again. When she shied away, he pulled back. Stung confusion hung in his features until he saw her eyes dart to Tek, who watched them in rapt astonishment. His unspoken question drew a deep violet hue to Raven's cheeks.
"Don't push me," she pleaded in a whisper.
He smiled, and patted her shoulder. Then, before she could escape, he leaned in and kissed her blushing cheek. The flash of tranquility mixed with the electric jolt of his lips robbed Raven of any motion or thought. She stood there, wide-eyed, as he whispered in her ear, "A little push won't kill you. I'll see you tonight."
All three girls watched him as he left. Two of them wore smiles. A different two of them wore blushes. Sarah opened the door for him, and sang, "Thank you for visiting Titans Compound. Have a Titan-riffic day, sir or ma'am!"
"Woof," Tek breathed, letting her gaze drift down through the glass to the seat of Dominic's slacks. "Raven, he is molten-magma-Earth's-core hot! I can't believe that youuuuuuu obviously don't want to talk about it," she drawled, trailing off when she caught sight of Raven's expression. "Right. Sorry."
Raven drew up her hood, reassuming her shadowy, disinterested normalcy. She nodded to the bags strewn on the floor, and remarked, "I think Victor might have a fork lift in the Bay. You'll want to make two trips so it doesn't break."
Flushed with embarrassment, Tek asked Sarah, "Could you please take that stuff to my room? Don't open it! I mean…just put it in the closet."
Sarah gathered the bags, hefting them with holographic ease. She carried them to the wall, which opened to reveal a small service elevator. She dropped the bags inside and closed the door, restoring the wall back to seamless solidity. Then, with a nod to the two Titans, she de-rezzed, presumably to meet the elevator on the upper level.
Raven did not care for their artificial receptionist. Still, she felt tempted to call Sarah back just to avoid the trip through the security door alone with Tek. Uneasiness walked between the two girls, stretching the short hall behind the front desk into a marathon of avoided glances and subtle throat-clearing.
Tek broke first. "So," she said, her voice clawing its way from her clenched throat, "Date tonight. This is, what? Number three?"
"Mmn."
"Have you…I mean, do you…uh, kiss yet?" An image came unbidden to Tek, one of Raven hanging upside down from a dankly dripping cave ceiling with Dominic caught in the cocooning embrace of her cloak. Only her herculean effort kept the smirk off Tek's face.
Raven's empathy tingled with Tek's snickering curiosity. "How's therapy going?" she asked abruptly.
The question was a low blow, and Raven felt cheap for using it, but she was willing to go to any lengths to take the focus off her. The niggling, snickering curiosity she felt in Tek drowned in a spate of gloom, making Raven cringe all the same.
"Fine," Tek mumbled into her chest.
They scanned through the security door without further conversation. A battle raged on the other side of the door. Sector Prime echoed with a simulated ruckus, courtesy of the extensive holographic projection system Cyborg had installed. Not wanting to interrupt, or worse, get sucked in mid-battle, the girls stood at the edge of the sprawling floor and watched facsimiles of their worst enemies hurtle at their boys.
"Keep it tight, guys!" Cyborg shouted. His fist burst from the end of his arm, trailing a heavy cable behind it. The fist shot between the thick stone legs of Cinderblock, who roared as the cable wrapped around one leg. Cyborg yanked the foot out from under his massive opponent, toppling him. With Cinderblock down, Cyborg chanced a look back to see how his teammates were doing.
Lavender pus slithered across the floor. Its face morphed into a cavernous maw that grew yellow eyes to glare and shriek at the green gazelle bounding just beyond its reach. The gazelle shrank and changed, becoming Beast Boy. "Gimmie two seconds, and I'll have this zit popped, Vic!" he crowed.
Bushido hand-sprung back from a fist of pure electricity that rivaled any Volvo in size, if not in safety. He flipped to his feet and flung a wave of shuriken into the blue-white mass of energy pursuing him. Overload ate the metal stars, grinned, and then spit them out as carbonized wads.
"I am ill-equipped to defeat my opponent," Bushido called. "Perhaps if I switched with you, Cyborg—"
"Keep on your man. Man-thing. Whatever. Just take him down!" Cyborg shot back in mid-leap. He landed on Cinderblock's chest before the giant could rise. Cracks webbed beneath Cyborg's feet as he summoned the cannon from his arm. A sonic kiss knocked Cinderblock unconscious.
Beast Boy crouched low and bared his fangs at the oncoming wave of Plasmius. "Okay, snot ball. Here comes a nose who knows how to take care of boogers like you!" He inflated with a trumpeting cry, filling the floor with the form of a bull elephant. Tile rattled beneath his thunderous charge into Plasmius. His trunk sprayed the lavender pus with a mighty swipe.
But the majority of Plasmius that his trunk failed to defer crashed into Beast Boy's legs. Plasmius pooled around his stumpy stance, with yellow eyes oozing and bursting underfoot. Beast Boy wailed through his trunk before it became clogged with gunk. More of Plasmius slithered up his rough hide, engulfing the shapeshifter whole.
Shrinking back into his elfin self, Beast Boy clawed at the pus entombing him, and cried, "Id in by node!"
"Beast Boy." Bushido backed toward him, unable to look without taking his eyes off Overload. "Can you free yourself?"
"No, I can'd!" Beast Boy's choking sob answered.
Cyborg sprinted across the floor. His cannon blasted the edges off Plasmius's mass to no avail. He could not hit Plasmius directly for fear of hitting Beast Boy. "Gar! Hold on!" he shouted.
The help would be too late, as Bushido saw. He reached into his sleeve, and shouted, "Beast Boy, become something large to absorb the shock."
"Abzorb da chock?"
Cackling statically, Overload lunged at Bushido, just as the swordsman hoped. Bushido jumped up and over the clumsy collection of energy. A flick of his hand loosed a weighted chain from his sleeve. The spiked weight passed through Overload with only a few sparks to show for it. Then it exited the other side of Overload and sailed into Plasmius, still trailing its chain, which Bushido had released.
Overload screamed as his energy drained into the chain. An inhuman screech joined in as Plasmius smoked and boiled in the wash of blue lightning. Seconds later, all that remained of the villainous pair was a scowling diskette that clattered to the floor and a slumbering naked man.
Beast Boy lay twitching in a scorched lavender stain on the floor. Brittle, dried pus cracked off his uniform. His tussled hair stood on end. He stared at Cyborg's lumbering approach, his face spasming wildly, and coughed up a cloud of powdered Plasmius.
"Computer, end simulation!" Cyborg shouted. The Cinderblock behind him de-rezzed, as did the diskette, the man, and the stain. He helped Beast Boy up, keeping the twitchy shapeshifter steady with a hand on his arm. His mismatched glare burned through Bushido. "What the hell was that?" he snapped.
Bushido responded with a cool voice and a calm posture. "Overload was upon me, and Beast Boy was moments from suffocation. Had Beast Boy chosen a larger form, as I recommended, the shock would not have affected him as greatly as—"
"Stow it," Cyborg said. "You don't endanger your teammates to save your own skin."
"I was attempting to save his as well," Bushido said.
Curling his lip, Cyborg said, "Next time, don't even bother. We'd probably all live longer that way. Now get outta here before I put you on graveyard monitor duty for a month."
Bushido bowed. "As you wish," he said, and walked away.
Tek followed Raven out onto the floor. She cast a worried look after Bushido as she and Raven joined Cyborg and jittery Beast Boy. "Hey, guys," Cyborg said as he patted the shakes out of Beast Boy. "We missed you at training this morning, Raven. I knew Tek was gonna miss it, but where were you?"
"Out," Raven said in a tone that did not invite further inquiry. A sidelong glare aimed at Tek prevented any more answers by proxy.
Nonetheless, Cyborg pieced it together himself. "Oh, I get you. Cool. Next time, though, give me a little warning. It's not really fair if you get to make kissy face with your gothy beau while Gar and I have to handle the killer all on our own."
"Psh. Captain Pajamas couldn't give us any trouble on his best day," Beast Boy scoffed, and twitched.
"But Gar was the one who messed up."
Tek wilted under a trio of astonished glares. She clapped her hand over her mouth, realizing too late that she had spoken the thought. As the glares persisted, she peeled her palm from her lips, and reluctantly explained, "We all know blunt trauma doesn't work on Plasmius. Charging him like that was never going to work. And Vic, you had to know Ryuko couldn't take out Overload with what he had. He told you as much. He should have fought Cinder—"
"He screwed up," Cyborg said firmly, pressing a hand to Beast Boy's stiffening shoulder. "He could have stalled for time until someone came to help with Overload. He should have pulled Gar out, instead of almost cooking him."
Beast Boy shot Tek a dirty look as he smoothed his hair down. "Like disk-for-brains could take me out anyway." He shared a high-five and a laugh with Cyborg, instantly improving his mood. "So, I'm charged up and starved. Who's up for pizza? Raven?"
Her features flattened at his smile. "I just got back from breakfast," she said.
"Then you're just in time for lunch!" He grabbed her by the arm and towed her from the group. Her heels dragged in the air as she was pulled along by a hand that didn't understand the word "no."
Cyborg chuckled at the pair, and then set his aim toward the Habitation Wing and a hot oil bath. Tek's chasing voice slowed him until the rest of her caught up, and said to him, "Vic, hold on. I still don't get why you yelled at Ryuko like that. We've all messed up in practice before. Remember when I accidentally threw a Traino-Bot at Raven? She didn't walk right for a week, but you—"
An impatient groan from Cyborg cut her short. "Tek, that was different. Besides, he's already threatened our lives enough. I don't want him doing it anymore, even by accident. If I have to chew him out a little to get him to play for the team, then I will. He's tough. He can take it."
"That's not what I—"
The Compound klaxon howled. Bloody light pulsed throughout Sector Prime, turning the white tile red with urgency. Tek exchanged a worried look with Cyborg before she sprinted after him toward Ops.
They reached the far wall of the Sector a moment later, both breathing hard. Ops' balcony loomed high overhead. Cyborg slammed his fist into the wall, and ordered, "Computer, activate Fast Action Level Lifts!"
Six cylindrical hand grips extended from the wall, opening from six corresponding grooves that stretched from the floor all the way to the ceiling. Each grip came with a nerve-wrackingly small pedal, into which Cyborg and Tek slipped their feet. As soon as they grabbed their respective grips, the pedals leapt up the wall, shooting the two Titans along the dizzying grooves.
Tek mashed her eyes shut to stave off vertigo. Cyborg's unfortunately-acronymed lifts were the fastest way to Ops from the ground floor in an emergency. That did not mean she liked them, even for a second.
The lifts hissed to a stop next to the fourth floor balcony of Ops. A narrow bridge extended from the balcony's underside to allow them to step off. Cyborg vaulted over the rail and dashed into the central control chair as Tek balanced her way across the bridge. She shimmied over the rail just as Raven fluttered into Ops with a wave of cloak and a green pigeon behind her.
"What's on the Teen TroubAlert?" Beast Boy asked after shucking his wings for arms.
Cyborg grumbled under his breath. "You have to stop calling it that," he said. His fingers split open, revealing needle-thin actuators that spread across the console's keyboard. The actuators typed at inhuman speed to deactivate the noisy klaxon.
A map of the city resolved in hologram before them, spreading across Ops to display the location of the alert. The massive map shifted its perspective to the east of the city until brown emptiness loomed over the Titans.
"The Doldrums?" Beast Boy said, scratching his head. "What kind of bored idiot would cause trouble out there?"
"If anyone could answer that…" Raven murmured, knowing full well his sensitive ears would hear her. He raspberried her accordingly.
Another lift hissed up the wall, carrying Bushido to Ops. He flipped over the rail and landed behind them, asking, "What's the emergency?"
"If you'd shut up a second, I'll find out," Cyborg snapped at him, earning an unseen frown from Tek. His keyboard clattered under blurring actuators to call up more information to the holographic display. When the data arrived on-screen, Cyborg blanched.
"No way…" Beast Boy murmured.
Satellite images depicted the desolate Doldrums from above. Only the occasional patch of yellow-green sage broke the brown landscape, or so it should have been. But instead, a sea of black dots swept across the screen. The dark wave appeared to move slowly only because of the perspective. The computer calculated the speed of the wave to be more than enough to cross the Doldrums in a meager twenty minutes, maybe even sooner.
A second, closer image depicted the individual components of the wave. Red eyes waded in the sea, staring resolutely at the city before them.
"Everybody get to the Bay. Now!" Cyborg bellowed.
To Be Continued